


What Man and Elf Do When They're Alone (is REALLY none of my business)

by Yuval25



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: After book events, Apart from L/A, Canon Compliant, Discovery, Elfish, Established Relationship, Find out, Gondor, Humor, King Aragorn, Love, M/M, Maid, Maidservant, Minas Tritith, Morning, OFC - Freeform, POV Original Character, Prince Legolas, Reveal, Romance, Secret Relationship, Servantgirl, Sindarin, Slash, Third Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuval25/pseuds/Yuval25
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young maidservant is tasked with informing the King that the council of Mirkwood and Gondor is waiting for him. However, as she stands before his chambers it quickly becomes clear that the King is not alone in his rooms. Fine, alright, that was not such a dumbfounding thought. After all, the King was a healthy man with healthy needs. What she did NOT expect was to see the Prince of Mirkwood walking out of there, his hair in disarray and looking quite satisfied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Man and Elf Do When They're Alone (is REALLY none of my business)

**Author's Note:**

> I have officially discovered the wonder that is Aragorn/Legolas. I can't believe what I've been missing all that time! Though, Drarry is not a thing to be underestimated, either, mind you.  
> All the same, it was a wonderful experience. This is a part of 'Of Men and Elves - and everything in between' collection thing I have going on. Let's fill it with all kinds of slash-tastic A/L!  
> Please leave a review - those fuel my muse, believe it or not :)  
> My awesome beta for this one is Michy Drarry Shipper over at FFN. Cheers, Michy!

The ordinary-looking girl passed through the halls in a blur of faded greens and greys that belonged to the rags she wore, which would have gotten the title 'cloths', had they bared any resemblance to an actual dress, which, of course, they didn't. With only sixteen years to her name, the maidservant with the ordinary brown hair and brown eyes couldn't have come from a poorer family, and yet she still managed to find a place to work within His Majesty's magnificent halls.

This morning, Reaha was very busy. Not that other mornings were spent in total leisure and relaxation, of course, but this morning was somehow more frantic as she ran from kitchen to bathing room, to storage room to stable. Her handler, Old Narigil, was a stern, plump woman who worked mainly in the kitchens, and of course had never heard the addition to her name that Reaha had thought up – if she had, Reaha would have had her head served for supper.

Rushing through the busy halls and passageways, and narrowly avoiding a collision with a cute, young manservant she had never seen before, who held a bundle of what seemed like dirty white tunics (though one couldn't tell the color with sureness, for they were so filthy), Reaha was sent to check on His Majesty. He had not come down to the conference hall for the meeting with Mirkwood's chief of something or other. The riders from Mirkwood had arrived mere days ago at Minas Tirith, and the King had never failed to show his face at any of the conferences that had gathered on those days.

Of course, Reaha was only allowed permission to the King's chambers because there was a shortage in staff this morning and no other maids or pages were available. Narigil would have gone herself, but was too busy shouting orders at the poor cooks as they made His Majesty's breakfast, if her angry, red face as she regretfully told Reaha of her task was anything to go by.

As Reaha approached the King's chambers' double, wooden doors, she marveled at their size and fineness. She had never seen such beautiful carvings on doors. The guards greeted her with a nod after she presented her signed parchment from Narigil, and allowed her to proceed.

As she neared the door, she could hear strange noises coming from the King's chambers. The first thought in her mind was that the King might be training with his sword, though she dismissed that thought immediately – the King had training grounds, so there was no reason that he should demolish his rooms. Frowning in worry, she let herself waver before the door as she listened carefully, trying to determine the cause of the queer noises.

Small sounds, muffled by the door, accompanied with what sounded like a groan of pain here and there, reached her ears and she paled. What if the King was being attacked?

Looking over her shoulder at the guards, she wondered if she should alert them to the possible danger to the King's life.

"H-has somebody already entered the King's chambers prior to my arrival?" she asked, hopeful she wouldn't have to walk into the possibly life-endangering situation by herself.

"I cannot say," answered the guard standing below a painting of a rider on its white horse. His voice sounded young, but of course, now was not the time to try and deduce the guard's age.

She couldn't determine if he meant he really didn't know, or if he wasn't allowed to tell her, of course, so she had to risk it.

As she reached to open the doors, a loud, manly moan filled the air and she blushed. If this was a battle, why couldn't she hear the metallic clashing of swords? Or maybe the hustle of a bare struggle, smashing of chairs and bodies hitting the ground?

Now suspicious of what she would find, the maiden servant-girl hesitated. Should she really walk in on the King in his private moments of, perhaps, indulging in pleasuring himself? But she had to announce that the conference was waiting for him. Should she wait until he finished?

Reaha blushed again as she heard a rumbling growl emit from His Majesty's rooms, followed by the ever-constant small sounds that, now that she thought about it, could probably be described as moans as well, or perhaps whimpers. Was the King not alone?

How embarrassing.

That was, of course, why the guards, who no doubt heard the moans and groans that sounded from the King's chambers, hadn't acted before. Of course they had heard – Reaha was surprised the whole castle wasn't awakened by the hustle.

She waited in an awkward silence for the noises to stop, her face a constant red. By the time it became quiet in the King's rooms, she was already lightheaded and dizzy from blushing for so long. She was no physician, but even she knew something was wrong when the room started spinning to the right. Why to the right?

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she stilled herself until the staggering feeling passed.

She was about to push the doors open with renewed determination when they opened from the inside, making her stumble back a step to avoid being hit by the hard wood.  Looking up, she felt her mouth fall open and her eyes widen ineptly.

In front of her stood a tall, blond Elf, his hair a messy disarray held back by two perfect, thin braids, revealing his curiously pointed ears. She had never seen an Elf's ears from such a close distance, and was fascinated by the angle of the tips of them. Of course, he looked beautiful. His pale, Elven complexion was flawless. He grimaced as he caught sight of her, and although she hadn't thought it possible, she blushed harder. Her bafflement grew as she recognized the face of the Prince of Mirkwood, who had accompanied the Company sent to Gondor from the Elven Colony. She had caught a brief glance of him when they first arrived. He had of course led the Company as they rode on spotless white horses into the gates of Minas Tirith. Of course, the crown helped with the identification greatly.

"Wha- …oh- …good morning, Your Highness," she said quickly, bowing at the waist in front of the Prince, tripping over her words, to her utter embarrassment.

Tilting her head up slightly, she saw him give her a warm smile. She took that as a sign that she could rise. "It is," he spoke, his rich voice soft like silk and sweet like honey.

She stood there, still slightly hunched from her deep bow, wide-eyed and staring at the beautiful Prince, shock written all over her face as she found herself mesmerized by him. Everything about him was just so handsome, perfect and delicate. _Elf-like_ , she précised.

"Legolas," called a rough voice, and suddenly the King came to the doorway of his rooms, without a tunic and bare-chested. She looked down quickly, her rose-colored cheeks heating up further and colors swimming into her vision for no apparent reason. It was not hard to guess what the two Royals had been doing only minutes before, even for someone as young as Reaha, but she had never heard of two men indulging in such acts together. It must be… No, she could _not_ think of the King in such a manner. It was disrespectful and dishonorable.

As she stayed in the bowed position she had acquired when the King appeared, she could, if only barely, see that the King didn't even spare a glance in her direction. It was for the best, of course, for she could not tame her rosy cheeks any more than she could her straying line of thought.

"Bow."

Confused at the King's order, as she was already bowing a very low, respectful bow in front of him, Reaha didn't move and waited for him to clarify.

"Ni 'lassui," spoke the Elf Prince, and there was a sound of something exchanging hands. Reaha didn't dare look up and see what it was, for she had maybe failed to follow the King's unclear order of bowing, and did not feel like chancing her luck.

"Pe channas," chuckled the King.

"Estel!" exclaimed the Prince.

Reaha was very, very unsure as to what was happening, but she assumed her position and stayed unmoving until the Elf hopefully left. She figured that they were speaking a tongue not known to her, probably an Elfish tongue learned by both. Of course, there was no doubt in her mind the King could learn any language that existed in Middle Earth, even if he had not been taught it from infancy.

"Gi melin. Si ego," said the King, and retreated back to his chambers, closing the doors.

The Prince sighed and left, moving slowly and somewhat carefully down the hall, as if his every step was calculated. Strange – she had always thought Elves would walk with the grace they seemed to possess in looks and speech.

Baffled, Reaha lifted herself up and felt her back protest in return. She felt relieved it didn't crack embarrassingly. Knocking on the wooden doors, she readied herself to be chided by the King, and maybe even punished, although she naturally, of course, preferred the former.

"Enter," sounded from inside and Reaha gently pushed the doors open, stepping inside hesitantly.

"Your Majesty, the council has gathered. They are waiting for you, my Lord," she told him, her voice surprisingly calm although she was muddleheaded and nervous beyond belief.

"Yes, I am aware."

She nodded, waiting to be dismissed. In truth, she wanted to be out of there as soon as possible so she could process everything she'd heard and seen. Normally, she'd squeal at the possibility of conversing with the King, but at the moment, all she wanted to do was flee.

"It would be best for all involved if you refrain from mentioning the Prince of Mirkwood visiting my chambers to anyone. In fact, forget it altogether," ordered the King.

Reaha felt relieved as she found herself answering readily, "Of course, my Lord."

"Off you go, then," he dismissed her with a smile, and she felt herself returning a grin of her own as she scrambled out of there, her clumsy nature making her topple over a discarded, deep-red tunic that seemed to emerge out of thin air. Fortunately, she managed to catch herself with an entanglement of legs that should not have had the effect of steadying her, and continue on her way out.

When she was a few steps past the guards, she sighed loudly. Well, at least that was over. And the King was nicer than she'd imagined.

She only wished Narigil was half as nice as the King, or the Elf Prince.

" _What_ have you been doing? I gave you a simple task, a _simple_ task! To take so long, you _must_ be truly dim-witted! A _stupid_ servant. Why must _I_ be stuck with you-"

But Reaha didn't listen to Narigil's huff and puff. No – she was thinking of before, when the Elf had come out of the King's chambers, his cheeks flushed and hair all over the place-

She felt herself blush again.

Perhaps it was better if she indeed forgot about the whole thing altogether, if only to avoid any more embarrassing scenarios regarding the King's love life in the future.


End file.
